


What We Wanted

by Arisprite, username_goes_here



Series: The Doumeki Family Storybook [2]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Dealing with It, F/M, Kohane pov, M/M, Pregnancy, The Doumeki Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/username_goes_here/pseuds/username_goes_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doumeki could barely take it in. Yes, this is what they’d been trying for, and yes, this was in the agreement all along, and they were lucky it was that easy for them to conceive, given the difficulty they had at intercourse, and yes, now there would be children to carry on the wish he’d made in his heart, that there would always be someone to care for Watanuki, but - </p>
<p>But. </p>
<p>He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t anywhere <i>near</i> ready, and how was he supposed to be a father, when he wasn’t in love with the child’s mother, and he still looked too long at his friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously can't stop thinking about this. Doumeki and Kohane marry. They have children. How does that go? 
> 
> Watanuki's dialogue and Kohane's pov were written and the whole thing was edited by Rémy, or username_goes_here. She's awesome!

“You’re…?” Doumeki couldn’t finish the sentence. Tsuyuri looked solemn, and scared, but at the same time proud and determined. 

“Pregnant. I’m almost sure.” 

Doumeki could barely take it in. His face was impassive for a long moment, while his insides roiled. Yes, this is what they’d been trying for, and yes, this was in the agreement all along, and they were lucky it was that easy for them to conceive, given the difficulty they had at intercourse, and yes, now there would be children to carry on the wish he’d made in his heart, that there would always be someone to care for Watanuki, but - 

But. 

He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t anywhere _near_ ready, and how was he supposed to be a father, when he wasn’t in love with the child’s mother, and he still looked too long at his friend? How was he supposed to explain to a little person that they had created with impure intentions; that he or she was tied to the man that their parents loved more than each other for the rest of their life? This was so terrible, this was so unfair, and it made him sick. 

Tsuyuri looked as ill, unhappy and happy at the same time, but Doumeki could barely meet her eyes. She glanced at him, and tilted her chin. 

“This is what we wanted, Shizuka-kun.” Her reminder was soft. Doumeki’s response was softer. 

“Was this the right thing to do?” he asked. 

Tsuyuri looked down, placing a hand on her stomach. She was still tiny, still flat there. That would change. 

“Too late for second thoughts, don’t you think?” she asked, and Doumeki breathed. Nodded shakily. Again, he was being unfair. To her, to this child. A child. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he reached out to put his hand on her head, an old comfort. He needed air, needed to wrap his head around… “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Tsuyuri nodded, shifting his hand, before he pulled away. 

He went to the shop. Where else? He at least tried to not give away his upset, but he didn’t think he could give Watanuki the news yet either. He headed inside with a blank face and a bottle of sake from his favorite seller down the road. A needed distraction, unless he got the words out and then it could be a celebration. 

“Welcome home!” 

“Welcome home!” sang Maru and Moro, smiling and cheery at the front door. 

“I’m back,” Doumeki said, no longer replying with either ‘I don’t live here,’ or ‘yeah, I home’, as one was too painful a reminder, and the other a wish he had to give up. 

“You brought sake!” Mokona yelled, bouncing down the hallway to retrieve it. 

“Yeah. Where’s Watanuki?” 

“He’s mending in the side room.” Mokona took the bottle, somehow balancing it on his head as always. Doumeki nodded, and went to find him. 

He knocked on the wooden frame, and slid open the screen to see Watanuki surrounded by a field of color. Countless kimonos and other types of clothing were laid out carefully around Watanuki’s kneeling form. He was wearing a much simpler robe than usual, and had bright blue silks spread across his lap. 

He didn’t look up, but replied to the knock. “Stay out there. These are delicate, I can’t have you ruining them,” he said, pulling the needle tight. 

Mokona had hopped along after him, and called out, still balancing the bottle of sake on his head. Doumeki knew from long experience that he’d never drop it. 

“Doumeki brought sake! The good stuff!” he cheered, before bouncing off with it. Doumeki watched him go, and then leaned on the frame of the sliding door, taking in all the colors. He tried to summon his normal ease here, his dry humor, something, but he couldn’t think of anything. Not wanting to tip Watanuki off that something was wrong - because _nothing_ was wrong...except his entire moral code - he folded his arms and spoke. 

“Yo,” he said. “Sewing day?” 

Watanuki shrugged lightly, and made a couple of quick stitches. 

“The past few days have been ‘clean the pantry day’, so why not ‘sewing day’,” he said, and then stood to lay out the kimono to be sure it looked right. “I’ve mended...hm. I don’t know. At least seven or more of these today. They were folded improperly. Can’t believe it took me so long to find these…” 

He let out a breath, looking over the robe, before folding it carefully and setting it to the side. Then he looked at Doumeki. 

“You brought good sake?” Watanuki asked. “What’s the occasion?”

“It was on sale,” Doumeki lied. He’d shelled out for it. “They’re pretty.” He looked around at all the silks and shiney folds. He didn’t remember Watanuki ever wearing these. 

Watanuki frowned at him, probably dissatisfied with his explanation, before he turned to give a fond glance to the fabrics spread out around him. 

“They are. I’m glad I found them sooner rather than later. Shall we drink?” 

Doumeki nodded, and let Watanuki pick his way through the kimonos towards the door. He could hear Mokona and the girls still cheering from down the hall, and he felt a momentary burst of fondness for everyone there. 

They entered the dining room, where the low table sat with cushions to sit on, to find Mokona already laying out the cups. 

“Always on top of it, this one, but only when alcohol is involved,” Watanuki commented as he crossed his legs to sit again. 

“Rude! Mokona is always helpful!” 

“Then why are my dishes still in the sink?” 

Mokona rolled over on the ground, then bounded onto Doumeki’s shoulder to whine in his ear. 

“I was just saving them for after dinner!” he said, rubbing his face into Doumeki’s cheek. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Watanuki accused, narrowing his eyes. The girls giggled behind him. 

Mokona grabbed his face and turned his eyes towards him. “Doumeki, you gotta believe me!” 

Doumeki eyed him, amused and distracted, before Mokona sighed dramatically and bounded back to the table to pick up the sake bottle. 

“Aren’t we here to drink?” he asked. Watanuki sighed, and Doumeki huffed, so Mokona poured a cup for Doumeki, then held the bottle out to drink from the lip himself. Watanuki pulled it away and poured Mokona a cup. 

“So. You say this was on sale?” Watanuki asked Doumeki then, as Mokona pouted. He sounded sceptical.

“Mhm,” Doumeki said, taking the bottle to pour a cup for Watanuki. He pushed it across the table towards him. “I was surprised.” 

“Where did you get it?” Watanuki asked.

“The shop down the street,” Doumeki replied, wishing they could get the conversation off the wine. He was going to let it slip, and then Watanuki would guess...something. He felt a renewed surge of guilt. 

“Hm,” Watanuki said, drinking a sip. “Oh, it’s good.” 

Mokona nodded, and shoved his empty cup into his face. 

“More!” he announced, and Watanuki grabbed the cup from him grumpily, and refilled it very slowly, watching the anticipation grow on Mokona’s face. 

“Dishes,” Watanuki said, handing the cup back to Mokona, who snatched it greedily. 

Watanuki turned to Doumeki again, and spoke. 

“Are you here for dinner, then?” he asked. Doumeki purposefully didn’t make a face as he gulped a bit of wine. He really should go home - he’d left Tsuyuri alone, after reacting in the worst possible way to what was usually the best news a wife could her husband. Tsuyuri was strong, but this was beyond unacceptable. 

Yet the thought of going home yet...Doumeki nodded. “I’ll stay.” 

Watanuki set the cup down, giving him a grumpy look. 

“Ah, well, I didn’t really plan anything…” He paused, like he was waiting for Doumeki’s demand, but Doumeki noticed a beat too late. Mokona jumped in. 

“Watanuki should make a curry!” he yelled, leaping in the air dramatically. “Super spicy - level 100!”

Watanuki caught him in his hands, and gave him a sardonic smile. 

“You’re getting a little too demanding. Do the dishes and I’ll consider your curry.” 

“Oh, alright,” Mokona whined, squirming. “But I’ll be lightning quick, super-fast, can’t catch me!” He bounded off in a flash. 

Watanuki settled back at the table, leaning on his elbow. “There are three dishes in there, he’s being ridiculous,” Watanuki said, waving a hand. 

Doumeki took another drink, a bit too big, nearly making him cough. Mokona’s noise had covered Doumeki’s silence, but now that he was gone it was too quiet. 

He set his empty glass down, and pulled out the first thing that came to mind. 

“If you make the curry, you should make beef katsu with it.” 

Watanuki narrowed his eyes at Doumeki. 

“Fine. But only because you brought such fancy alcohol,” he conceded, pouring more drink into Doumeki’s glass. 

Doumeki took another sip, not responding. Watanuki finished his one cup, and set it down, leaning back and frowning at Doumeki. He opened his mouth, but then Mokona reentered loudly. 

“Dishes are done! Go make the curry like a good housewife!” Mokona called, landing on the table. 

“I’m not your housewife,” Watanuki said, standing up and frowning. 

Doumeki watched Watanuki stand from the low table, and walk off to the kitchen, calling to the girls, and instructing them with a hand on each of their heads. It was parental, and kind, and it struck Doumeki that he didn’t know how to do any of that. God, he was so afraid.

Mokona stood beside the half empty sake bottle, and peered up at him in concern. 

“Doumeki’s been off all night, you know. Watanuki’s noticing.” 

Doumeki took a drink, frowning around the lip of the cup. 

“I’m fine.” 

Mokona bounced closer, jumping up to hug his face. “C’mon! You can tell me, if you can’t tell Watanuki.” 

Doumeki pulled him off, and then sighed, setting him down again. He might as well get it out. And Mokona had proved to be surprisingly insightful in the past. Perhaps he could give him some advice as to why he was reacting this way. 

“Tsuyuri’s expecting,” he said, bluntly, and Mokona’s ears went up in shock, before he bounced up and down. 

“A baby! Exciting! We should celebrate, Wata-mmmff!” 

Doumeki grabbed Mokona out of the air, putting his hand over his loud mouth, stopping him from calling for Watanuki. Mokona frowned, and squirmed, before Doumeki let him down. 

“What was that for? Aren’t you excited?” 

With a pained expression, Doumeki closed his eyes and shook his head. Mokona quieted, looking up at him. 

“What’s the matter?” the little bun asked, and Doumeki huffed, knowing that from the outside there should be nothing wrong at all. 

Mokona watched him with a little solemn expression, before hopping closer and putting a paw on Doumeki’s hand. He didn’t say anything, but Doumeki could feel words rising up. Rarely, did that happen, and he usually held them back. 

“This changes everything…” he whispered, not even sure what he was mourning. It’s not like his life was any great joyful thing. In fact, he was heartsick most of the time. 

“Children do,” Mokona said. 

Mokona didn’t tell him that it was unfair to be _still_ thinking of Watanuki with longing, when he had a wife at home, that it was wrong to want something _different_ when they attempted to conceive, and that it was awful that they wished to bear a child for the purpose of helping a boy trapped in a shop. This was a child! A human life! But Mokona didn’t lie to him, or say anything at all. Just kept his little paw on his hand. Doumeki breathed. 

“Watanuki will be happy for you,” Mokona said finally, removing his paw. “He won’t understand anything besides happiness.” 

It was a warning, and a plea. Doumeki swallowed, nodded again. 

“I’ll try.” 

______

Shizuka ran off the moment she told him the news, and Kohane sat in the chair, holding back tears she never let fall.

He would be back, she knew. Later tonight. But for now, he was off to the shop, as he often was. Like her, he loved Kimihiro, but unlike her, he wouldn’t let it go. He couldn’t let it go. Not even for her.

She wasn’t asking for his love. She knew she didn’t have it, and he didn’t truly have her love - not in the way he deserved. What she wanted was his support. His comfort and his presence. They were married. They shared a life together. He should be here, with her. Not with him in this moment.

It was all for Kimihiro, yes. This baby was for the sake of Kimihiro, but also for her sake. She wanted a child for herself, and for Shizuka. A person who would love Shizuka unconditionally, as he deserved. As he needed. Someone he could love and protect.

This child was a blessing - a happy thing for them both. Kohane was happy for this baby, and not simply because this baby would take care of Kimihiro when she and Shizuka were passed. This was a part of her and a part of Shizuka, come together to create something beautiful, and she couldn’t have been more excited to meet this precious child.

She had wanted to celebrate with Shizuka. The two of them could celebrate, and then tell Kimihiro the news and celebrate more. Kimihiro would be thrilled about this. Kimihiro-

Shizuka was her husband. Shizuka was the father of this child, and she should celebrate with Shizuka and only him. This child had no part of Kimihiro in them, and Kohane dragged herself away from those thoughts. They occurred less and less frequently as she and Shizuka became more comfortable in their new relationship, but in this moment…

In this moment, Shizuka running away from her - from their _child_ … Could she help imagining the joy on Kimihiro’s face? The joy that Shizuka suppressed, and wouldn’t - couldn’t show her.

Kohane never cried, but here, alone, in the temple of her husband’s family, she wept.

When she was more composed, she went to Oba-chan, texting Shizuka her plans. She wasn’t far away, and she would probably be expecting her anyways.

Oba-chan opened the door before Kohane even reached it, and walked out to meet her with a hug.

“Kohane-chan,” she said softly, petting her hair. “Come inside.”

Kohane nodded, and Oba-chan led her inside with an arm around her.

“I’m making onigiri and I could use your help,” she said, directing them to the kitchen. “You can sit in that chair there. Don’t strain yourself and your little one.”

Oba-chan knew, of course. She probably knew more, but she only ever told what was necessary. A good gift, and one Kohane worked on.

Kohane nodded, and sat on the chair, then got to rolling the onigiri with Oba-chan. They worked in silence for a long while before Kohane couldn’t anymore, and set aside her onigiri. It was misshapen anyways. She went to the sink instead, and washed her hands before sitting back down in the chair.

“Oba-chan-” she began, but didn’t know what to say.

“He will come around,” Oba-chan said, setting her rice ball aside as well. “I promise you, Kohane-chan, that this child will bring nothing but happiness to you two.”

“...And Kimihiro-kun?” she asked quietly.

Oba-chan smiled. “And him as well.”

“Shizuka was… Unhappy.”

“Was he now?” Oba-chan asked as she arranged the onigiri, then went to the sink to wash her hands as well.

“Yes,” Kohane said quietly.

“Are you happy?”

Kohane nodded again, feeling tears in her eyes. “Yes. I’m very happy for this child,” she said, putting a hand over her belly. “I want to be happy. I want him to be happy.”

“I’m sure he is.”

Kohane shook her head. “No. He feels guilty. I can tell.”

Oba-chan frowned, but didn’t speak, waiting for Kohane to say more. She did that sometimes. It was good for her though, she supposed.

“He feels guilty. I don’t want him to. He shouldn’t be in pain like that. He shouldn’t be in pain, and… I want him to be happy with me. _For_ me.” Kohane spoke softly, as she always did. “But he… he doesn’t love me, Oba-chan. Though… I knew this when I asked. I thought-” She held back a sob then, not wanting to let it all out like this.

“Kohane-chan, child,” Oba-chan said as she put her arms around Kohane, “he loves you as much as you love him. And he will be happy for you. In the meantime, I’m very happy for you.”

Kohane was quiet then, letting tears flow freely as she leaned into Oba-chan. After too long a moment, she spoke again, voice breaking as she did so.

“Oba-chan… Will our child be unhappy with us?” she asked 

“No,” Oba-chan said quietly, but definitively. “That child will love you both.”

Kohane nodded, and was quiet again, letting Oba-chan comfort her if no one else would.

______

Doumeki drank another cup and a half before Watanuki got the curry simmering in the kitchen, not enough for him to feel tipsy at all, but he did feel warmer, and the knot of anxiety in his stomach was starting to ease. Mokona sat with him, and drank as well, and Doumeki felt a little more able to face Watanuki with the news. 

He stood, and made his way into the kitchen to lean on the wall like was his habit, watching Watanuki cook. It smelled delicious, and pushed through the faint nausea of nerves. 

Watanuki noticed him come in, letting out a breath. “It’ll be done soon - be patient,” 

Doumeki nodded, and swallowed. He couldn’t keep it a secret much longer. He’d already lied, and he truly ought to go home and check on Tsuyuri. 

Kohane. 

She was carrying his child, after all. She deserved the familiarity. She deserved the care that she’d shown him. She’d called him Shizuka for ages, since he’d met her, almost. 

He took a breath. “Can you put two helpings in a container for me to bring home?” he asked, politely and formally. “I need to go check on...Kohane.” 

Watanuki froze, cooking chopsticks hovering over the frying katsu, before he turned to face Doumeki fully. 

“Is Kohane-chan alright? She’s not sick, is she?” Watanuki looked worried, and Doumeki shook his head quickly. 

“She’s not sick.” Doumeki breathed for a moment. “She told me today… She’s pregnant.” 

Doumeki hadn’t said it out loud yet. Barely even thought it. But as he did so, it struck him. That was his child, his baby, that she was bearing. The mix of guilt, terror and sadness twisted further with… tentative joy? “She’s going to have a baby.” 

Watanuki dropped his chopsticks, and blinked at Doumeki. A long moment, and then he let out a choked laugh, smiling wide. 

“A baby,” he repeated through the smile. “That’s incredible. Congratulations to both of you. Ahhh, _that’s_ why you brought that sake.” 

Doumeki felt Mokona bound up and land on his shoulder, as he nodded, a trifle shakily. 

“It wasn’t on sale,” was all he said. 

“That sake has never been on sale,” Watanuki said, still not frowning.

Watanuki was happy, _happier_ than he’d seen him in a long time, and it was because he and his wife were having a baby, and _god_ could he get a handle on his emotions?

Watanuki was still smiling, stooping to pick up the chopsticks and dump them in the sink, picking out new ones to save the frying beef, plucking it out golden brown. 

“We were celebrating? That was a terrible celebration.” 

Doumeki shrugged, and Mokona leaned discreetly on his cheek. Watanuki turned around, now frowning again. 

“Your deadpan is more annoying than usual,” Watanuki said, turning off the stove burner for the curry and the frying oil. 

Doumeki moved to the kitchen table, sinking down into the chair and putting an elbow on the table. He rubbed Mokona’s back a little, taking strength. 

“Thank you,” Doumeki said. “For the congratulations.” He dredged up half a huff. “Guess I’m still in shock.”

“Get over your shock then,” Watanuki ordered, pulling out containers for the food. “If not for you, then for Kohane-chan. She has a life inside her, Doumeki. A shocked husband is no use at all.”

Doumeki nodded, and Mokona patted his cheek, and bounced off to poke at the food. 

“Yeah.” Watanuki was right, of course. Doumeki was being selfish. He needed to go home. 

Watanuki snapped the lids on the tupperwares, and shook his head, clicking his tongue. 

“Sometimes I wonder if anything I say gets through your thick skull,” he mumbled. “What with your one-word replies… If Kohane-chan decides the curry isn’t good, tell me and I’ll make something else. Anything she asks for.” 

“Okay.” Doumeki said, standing up. “Yeah, I’ll let you know, if… if she needs anything.” 

“Good,” Watanuki said, as he began packing up the curry for Doumeki. “And at least pretend that you know how to show enthusiasm.” 

Doumeki took the bag of curry, and rice and katsu beef in neat tupperwares, and nodded his head. 

“Thanks for dinner.” 

Watanuki didn’t accept his thanks. “I can’t believe you left Kohane home, alone, and pregnant, just to buy sake and force me to make you dinner,” he grumbled. Then he paused. “You’re...both alright with this?” he asked, looking away. 

Doumeki paused, facing the door. What could he say? He wanted to be. They’d planned for his, but faced with the prospect he was running in terror, and guilt. He took a breath, and then turned to look at Watanuki. His heart was feeling tugged in too many directions. He didn’t know what he was doing right now. He didn’t have an answer for Watanuki, and he couldn’t speak for Kohane, especially after leaving her alone like he had. 

“We’ll be fine,” he replied with, instead of everything else. “Thanks again for the food.” 

Watanuki glanced back, meeting his eyes for a moment. 

“Of course. Go home.”

Doumeki turned and did so, heading back to where he was supposed to be. He shouldn’t have gone, shouldn’t have run in the first place. Kohane was his _wife_ , and she was having a child that they’d planned and wished for. He didn’t get to have a heart that was torn asunder, not anymore. This child deserved his love, entirely. Kohane deserved his support. He’d never let this baby feel like anyone was more important than he or she was. Than this family was. It was a decision and a commitment, and Doumeki would not back down. Perhaps, with that decision, this could be alright.

______

Kohane came home later, with no reply from Shizuka in her phone, which hurt more than it should, but she was stronger than this. She was.

She put a hand on her stomach again, and slid the front door open to find Shizuka typing on his phone.

“...Kohane,” he said, and she took a moment to enjoy the sound of her own name from her husband. “I just got your text.”

Kohane nodded, and apologized. “I’m sorry to have run off like that-” she began, though as she said it, she found she wasn’t that sorry.

“No,” Shizuka interrupted, and it surprised Kohane. “I did that. I’m sorry.”

Kohane lowered her head, feeling the tears again and she didn’t want this. She never cried. She _never_ cried. Oba-chan said it was normal to be emotional though, so she didn’t fight it.

Shizuka took a few steps closer, and Kohane built up the courage to speak.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted. That I’m not what you wanted.” She didn’t bring up that she felt the same, but he knew that. They both knew that. “But this child… This child is a happy thing,” she said, meeting his eyes again. “Can’t you be happy with me? For this little one.”

Shizuka frowned, and closed the distance between them, pulling her into a hug. Kohane leaned into him, and he pressed his cheek to her hair. The contact was comforting, and she held back another sob.

“Yes,” Shizuka said then. “This child…” He paused for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts as he sometimes did. “I am happy. I’m afraid too, but… I won’t ever let this child think I’m not happy to have it here. I promise.”

The sincerity of his words overwhelmed her, and Kohane wrapped her arms around Shizuka, nodding and allowing him to comfort her as she let the last of her tears out.

“Thank you, Shizuka,” she said finally. _For this baby. For this chance. For being with me in this._


End file.
